


Dreamlike

by kj_graham



Series: Sastiel Love Week 2o2o [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: "Baby" episode coda, Episode: s11e04 Baby, First Times, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23589049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kj_graham/pseuds/kj_graham
Summary: Just before Sam woke up completely, he had the sense that he’d had a very realistic dream. There was no way it was reality, of course, but it had been nice to feel like it was.Of course, sometimes reality is better than a dream...for the prompt "episode coda."
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester
Series: Sastiel Love Week 2o2o [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692472
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64
Collections: Sastiel Love Week 2020





	Dreamlike

They drove through the night to get back to the bunker. Maybe it would have been beneficial to stop, get some rest, and go home in the morning. But Dean was worried that the Impala wasn’t going to grant him a third start after the beating she’d taken the last couple of days, and they both just wanted the bunker and all the creature comforts they’d surprisingly acclimated to from being in one place all the time.

Twenty-one hours from Oregon to Kansas. They swapped out; even Dean couldn’t drive all that in one shot, and Sam was the one to pull into the garage, finally cutting the engine.

Cas was waiting for them. Sam leaned into his touch gratefully, eagerly awaiting the immediate relief that always came with healing, the release like ecstasy.

Dean barely said a word to either of them before he shuffled off into his room. He was so dead tired Sam wondered if he would even shower tonight.

Sam had been waiting almost a day for a shower. He’d spent a good chunk of the drive anticipating the hot water. That was one thing he especially loved about the bunker; for someone who always wanted to take scalding showers, motels tended to be disappointing, sometimes not having warm water at all.

And, oh, he was not disappointed. It was so very nice to wash off all the blood and grit. This had been kind of a messy hunt and he ended up having to pick tiny pieces of glass out of his skin from where they’d littered the Impala’s seats.

He was bone-tired by the time he got out from under the water, all pruny and barely able to see through the billowing clouds of steam he’d filled the bathroom with. All he wanted was to throw some pajamas on, crawl into bed, and sleep for at least eleven hours.

Sam had also forgotten that he’d extended an invitation for Cas to watch Netflix in his room. In the chaos of the hunt it had slipped his mind, so when he opened his door to a figure sitting on his bed, watching his TV, he startled back out into the hallway.

“Sam?”

 _it’s Cas it’s Cas it’s Cas_ , Sam was repeating to himself, trying to get his heart rate back down, but this was, as always, counterintuitive; Castiel’s presence alone was usually enough to boost Sam’s pulse, for a reason he really didn’t want to think about right now.

“Hey, Cas,” Sam said after a moment. His nervous system had apparently made the call not to freak out completely. He took one last deep breath and then entered his room, not bothering to flip his light on. He just wanted bed.

“I like this,” Cas said. “Netflix. I told Dean earlier that I’m confused as to how orange is new compared to black, but I do enjoy it.”

Sam hummed in agreement. Brain crashing. Bed. Sleep. After he’d pulled his shirt on, he moved to his bed.

Castiel was sitting in the exact middle. He’d have to move if Sam wanted sleep. Sam didn’t particularly care if that meant leaving or not. He perched on the side of the bed, raising an eyebrow when Cas looked at him.

“Mind moving over?” psssh. Mind moving over. What was he saying? This bed was his, not Cas’s. Brain defunct.

Castiel blinked at him. Sam no longer had the energy to care that he was suggesting another man stay on his bed while he slept. Castiel was his own individual, he’d decide by himself what he wanted to do.

Cas did move over, stretching his legs down the right side of the bed and leaning against the headboard. He was already focused back on his show; his tiny frown of concentration was adorable enough that Sam snorted before he could catch himself.

That earned him a look from Cas. “What?”

“Nothing, Cas.”

Sam burrowed into the covers. He’d just laid down and shut his eyes when Cas cleared his throat.

“You…do not mind that I’m still here.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, which was good, because Sam’s current mush-brain would not have been able to comprehend a question.

Sam’s current mush-brain was also throwing any inhibitions out the goddamn window. “Nah,” Sam mumbled. “I like you here.”

There was a pause, the room almost charged with something. Anticipation? Surprise? Sam didn’t really care. It hadn’t even sunk in what he’d said yet.

The TV’s volume lowered several notches, but did not turn off. Cas didn’t move from his spot or say anything as Sam fell further and further into the clutches of sleep.

* * *

Just before Sam woke up completely, he had the sense that he’d had a very realistic dream. There was no way it was reality, of course, but it had been nice to feel like it was.

Time was hard to judge in the bunker without windows in the bedrooms. Sam would guess, however, that it was at least midmorning if not later, and after a moment, decided he felt fairly well-rested and should probably get up for the day.

He yawned, still just a little sleepy, opened his eyes, and promptly froze.

He could have sworn Castiel staying in his room had been a dream. Even if it somehow hadn’t been, there should have been no reason for him to stay through the whole night.

But here he was, laying out fully on the bed but looking up at the television, apparently unaware of the way Sam was staring at him with rising panic.

This had _not_ been what Sam had pictured as having Cas in bed with him. This hadn’t even been in his wheelhouse. He’d planned for these feelings to be taken to his fucking _grave_ ; he’d never even told _Dean_ how he felt about Cas.

Sam was completely awake now. He was completely awake and about two seconds away from a heart attack.

Cas, of course, chose that moment to glance at him, seemingly surprised to see that Sam was awake.

“I thought you’d still be asleep for a while,” he said, although there was a heavy note of uncertainty in his voice that Sam had never heard before.

Sam didn’t say anything. He couldn’t even wipe the clear distress off his face, either; apparently sleep was canceled out by Cas being in his _bed_ and his brain was definitely still mush. Defunct mush. 

“You look uncomfortable.” Cas was frowning, his voice still halting and uncertain. “I assure you I did not stay without your permission last night.”

Sam gulped. “I…yeah, I mean, I remember that last night, I just…I thought it was a dream.”

Oh god. Oh why would he _say_ that? This was why he only ever had luck with women. This was why he never had any luck with _Cas_.

Cas was tilting his head, the tv completely forgotten. “Why would you dream about me in your bedroom?”

Oh fucking _hell_ , Sam was going to jump off of a cliff and kill anyone who even thought of bringing him back ever.

Sam couldn’t answer. He didn’t even know how to formulate an answer. He just stared at Cas in open despair, feeling as though the room was literally bursting into flames all around them.

Cas didn’t make it any better when he started to smirk, just a little. Sam couldn’t even process the feelings _that_ facial expression gave him.

“Why would you dream about me, Sam?” Cas repeated, that damn smirk still on his face. His voice hadn’t lost any of its ordinary seriousness, but Sam still almost got the sense that Cas was…flirting? Messing with him?

Sam’s stupid defective mushy brain finally strung a sentence together and rushed it through Sam’s mouth, except that it was the one sentence Sam had never ever wanted to say and he didn’t get the chance to register what it was until it was out, hanging in the room.

“I like you,” he blurted. That was the moment his brain caught up and he could feel the color simultaneously rising to his face and draining from it. Something heavy dropped into his stomach. His heart was running a marathon. He couldn’t hear Cas’s Netflix show over it, the rushing of his heart crystal clear in his ears, a frantic drum march.

Sam watched Cas very closely, trying to gauge his reaction.

Castiel initially looked a little surprised, a little uncertain. Then he almost looked a little nervous, before his face lit up into this huge, genuine smile, the kind Sam barely recalled ever seeing on the angel’s face.

“Sam,” Cas said. His voice had lost that uncertain edge and was now lined with something much warmer, something like joy and hope and fondness all rolled together. “I like you too.”

Sam’s brain was going for three strikes, it seemed. “No, I mean, like….like I _like_ you, Cas. The way you’d think Dean likes a woman. Well, no, not like that, you’re more than that. But.” He was finally able to snap his jaw shut, almost biting his tongue in his rush to stop the word vomit.

He expected Cas to recoil; to leave immediately; to curse him out; anything.

Instead, Castiel’s smile only got bigger. His eyes were so _blue_ when he smiled like this, even brighter than they usually were, as if the joy was illuminating them.

“Sam,” Castiel repeated, emphasizing every word. “I like you too.” 

It almost didn’t click for Sam until Castiel had very carefully scooted closer and rested a hand on Sam’s jaw, thumb hooked under his chin.

Oh, Castiel’s eyes were even more blue so close-up like this. Castiel’s megawatt smile got even a little wider, if possible, and then he was leaning in, in, in…

His lips were very soft. They tasted vaguely like mint. The ever-present stubble on his face tickled a bit against Sam’s chin.

Castiel was kissing him. And it was soft and slow and perfect, like two puzzle pieces snapping into place. Sam’s defunct brain suddenly snapped into 100% function, and while they kissed, Sam let himself place a tentative hand in Cas’s hair, burying his fingers in the silky dark strands. His hair was every bit as soft as he’d thought it would be.

It was Cas who broke the kiss, pulling back just a little to study Sam’s face.

“I like you too, Sam,” he said, that gorgeous smile already coming back to his mouth.

Sam felt himself smiling in kind. “I think I got that now.” Then he bit his lip, his smile turning a little more wry. “But just in case I didn’t, you should kiss me again.”

“Certainly,” Castiel agreed, very seriously, and then he pulled Sam back in, in, in…


End file.
